Cool
by pouncepounce
Summary: A comical look at the quirks and disconnection of the citadel-ites, exaggerated to the extreme. Set in the times of Mass Effect 3, before Cerberus attacks the citadel.
1. Chapter 1

I can hear cars passing by, outside of the apartment complex. I never liked those damn noises. That high pitched drone is such a disturbing sound and it's completely killing the mood right now. At least there aren't any windows in this room so I don't have to see those horrid designs. Almost as filthy as salarians who designed them.

But it's okay, 'cause no salarian's gonna look as bad as this one after I'm done with him. He knows that he's about to get fucked up, but he doesn't really know how painful it's gonna be. That fear of the uncertain is showing in his eyes, his disgusting pitch black eyes.

I grab my knife and kneel down to the toad. He's lying on the ground, groaning in his own piss and shit. Looks tired. How many solar days has it been now? Lost count.

"Hey toad."

He opens his eyes, but no response, so I drag the knife slowly down his arm, making sure that the cut is only 3 or 4 millimeters deep. Toad skin is easy and fun to cut through when you strip them of their clothes. None of that fancy hi-tech protective weave bullshit in the way. His eyes widen suddenly and screams in pain.

"W-w-w-what do you want?" he trembles.

"WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU, SIR!" I scream in his face, spitting into his eyes. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO FUCKING TELL YOU?"

I grab one of his horns and go through it with my blade. The cut is smoother than I expected. I guess it can't be helped, he's pretty malnourished. Maybe I should take care of him until he recovers to full health. Ending him too soon could be a waste.

Nah. This is too much fun.

"What c-can I do for you, s-sir?" the salarian rightfully rephrases himself in his high-pitched, raspy voice.

"It's not about what you can do for me. It's about what I can do for you, buddy. Now tell me, how do you like your meat? Diced up or seared whole?"

"W-what?"

"So you like both."

I prance to the other side of the room and switch on the music player. _Expel 10_'s newest release: _Catharsis_. Maximum volume. It drowns out those annoying car noises.

I return to the salarian and before he can prepare himself I stab him in the eyeball, gouging it out with elegant dexterity. The sound of his screams echo throughout the room, blending in beautifully with the music. What an inspiring collaboration.

I strip down and crush the eyeball with my hands, rubbing the squishy chunks down my near perfectly formed chest. I quickly add a reminder in my omnitool to work out my chest later on in the day.

I move down to the salarian's arms, amputating him with a knife. Using a small blades was the right choice. His arms are showing resistance, I can feel the satisfying release in tension every time a cut through a tendon. I was going to enjoy the view but the toad seems to be losing consciousness. His screams are dying down. Kinda boring but I guess it really can't be helped. I take out my small hand held flamethrower. Where would I be without Kassa fabrications.

I point at his lower half, burning his legs. Almost nothing beats brightly burning salarian flesh, watching the muscles being revealed through the charred skin before being burned away. Suddenly I have an erection and I have a nearly unbearable urge to shove my penis down his mouth, but I don't. I resist. I actually have self control unlike some filthy depth grovelers out there. Fucking filthy fucks.

Instead, I jerk myself off, making sure I finish quickly so I can spray him before the toad dies. I finish and spray the salarian in the face as the intensity of his screams reached a high point before dying down into a faint gurgling noise. I'm really disappointed that I killed him so quickly. I always tell myself not to do this, but I just can' resist. I decide to watch the body burn a little before extinguishing the fire. It'd be troublesome if the fire were to spread.

I check the time on my omnitool. It's about time I go to work. I dismount the camera set in the corner of the room. I take out the datastick containing the recording and approach my safe. It's one of the most expensive, high end home safes that one can buy on the citadel.

As I initiate the unlock process with my omnitool, the VI appears.

"Please type your password and wait while your DNA is analyzed through your omnitool." A few moments pass by. "Analysis complete. Welcome Mr. Henry Smith."


	2. Chapter 2

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Getting a fever in these suits are terrible. I thought things would be better here on the Citadel, but I guess I was wrong. Nothing ever goes right for my people. A large human figure hovers over me as I lie on top of a cheap mattress.

"We're gonna have a lot of fun together honey," he says slowly in a low pitched voice. He's fat, I can almost hear the obesity in his voice, it's sickening.

"Oh how long I've been waiting for this," I whisper to him.

He presses his hands against the groin area of my enviro-suit and it feels really uncomfortable. His fat, round fingers are no where near agile enough for it to feel good. I moan loudly, making sure that it echos a little in the room.

"Keelah. How are you so good at this?" I move my pelvis up and down, rhythmically and in synch with my breathing.

"I'm a natural."

I think it's about time I started breathing heavily.

"I- I think I'm ready..." making sure to pant between each word.

I unlock the lower half of my enviro-suit. He unzips his expensive looking pants. They must've cost at least 10,000 credits.

* * *

I do up my enviro-suit again. He's getting off of the bed and walking towards the door, dropping a credit chit on the floor. At least he didn't throw it at me like that batarian bosh'tet I had a while ago. I shove antibiotics down through the induction port. That should help with the headache in a few minutes. I pick up the chit. 50 credits. Amino-dextro food isn't cheap but it should get me through a few days if I stretch it out. I decide to go out to buy some.

* * *

Buying food for cheap during wartime, especially as a quarian, is never easy. I have to go to some of the darker places of the Citadel, in the midst of its constant light. Other than slight inflation it's almost as if the war isn't even happening. A car stops by, landing right in front of me. It's a dark alleyway and nobody else is around.

"Hey there, beautiful," he says as he steps out of the car, with an unnaturally wide grin on his face. It's a male human.

"Hello there."

I look away quickly and try to walk away from him.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Where're you going? Don't you want to hang out?"

I look back, but I have a bad feeling about this. He's looking at me, smiling. His hair is perfectly styled and his body looks great, but something is wrong. I can tell by his body language that he's not what he seems. It's a skill you get over time if you're in my line of work for long enough.

* * *

She's considering what to do. Judging me. I wonder how she'll respond to this posture. I take on a friendlier, less aggressive stance.

"Come on." Maybe it's my smile. I'll try to make it more natural. "A pretty boy and a pretty girl hanging out together for a while. It'll be fun, trust me."

"But I don't have any credits."

She's looking at my clothes now. Probably noticed how good they look. Being a quarian, she's probably poor and desperate for any sort of luxury. Maybe I can use this.

"You won't have to worry about that."

"I'm out to buy some food and get back home. I have to work tomorr-"

"Look, I know this really nice place at the presidium. Apparently their amino-dextro stuff is really good. It'll be on me. How 'bout it?"

"Hmmm..."

I've almost got her. All she needs now is a little push. I approach her slowly. Standing right in front of her, I'm sure that she can see all of the immaculate details and masterful weaving of my garment.

"What've you got to lose?" I put on my best charming smile.

She smiles back.

"Fine. You got me!" she exclaims playfully.

I turn my charming smile into a childishly victorious grin, lowering the left side of my lips and raising the right side ever so slightly higher. Perfect.

"I win!" I say triumphantly. Checkmate.

I take her back to my car, re-opening the door with my omnitool, and we sit together in the back seats.

"Take us to the presidium." I call out to Terrence.

I can tell that she is impressed about me having a chauffeur. Typical quarian.

"I just realized. You looked so great that I forgot to ask for your name." I start off with a purposefully cheesy line, lowering her guard.

"Laram'Xan vas Idenna. I'm on my pilgrimage."

What stupid fucking name.

"I knew it. You look like a Laram!" I say comically. Her guard is lowered further.

She chuckles. "So, what's your name?"

"Mine? Henry Smith."


	3. Chapter 3

Come on baby. COME ON.

The price keeps dropping. Do I close my position?

A few tense moments pass by as I watch the price rise and my losses pile up. My eyes are glued to the charts. The whole trading floor is going crazy, celebrating. I'm three hundred thousand creds under. Shit. It's getting hot, but I'm holdin' out, unlike these dumb asses. I know better. The prices start rising. There's a massive spike and the momentum isn't cooling down. There's a minimal correction but it looks like the beginning of a strong downward trend.

People around me are screaming and panicking now. Oh how the tables have turned. They probably thought that with the turians fighting against the reapers in Palaven, they'd need to buy up a lot of weapons and so Armax shares would go up. Stupid. People are really underestimating the reapers. Even the best military in the galaxy doesn't stand a chance. They're getting ripped to shreds, and dead corpses can't exactly buy or make a lot of weapons. Their stocks plummet. I knew shorting Armax was a great idea. Oh, and it turns out that the other turian colonies nearby Palaven are preparing to move to other uncharted areas to settle, escape to Omega or fight to the death. Either way they're gonna need a lot of weapons. Turns out Aldrin labs has a few safe trade routes linked to those colonies, which means their shares go up. Easy money.

I get up from my chair. Six hundred thousand credits in the plus. It's a good day. They make fun of us volus, but it's me laughing at them when they realize how many more credits I have than them. I'm just so much better than them. I think I'll buy myself something good to eat. How 'bout that place by the presidium?

* * *

"So Laram, you enjoying that meal?"

"Yeah Henry. I haven't had anything this good in so long."

She's intoxicated. Quarians' accents sound really fucking disgusting and it's worse when their drunk. I over hear a volus asking for a one person table. Their voices aren't much better either. Full of those clicks and shit. I slice another piece off of my Earth grown beef steak. Rare. The feeling of my teeth ripping through the muscles is very satisfying. Not as good as eating through salarian thighs though.

"So, what do you like to do?" I ask her as if I am genuinely curious.

"Hmm, not that much. I mostly work, but during my off days I like to watch movies."

"So do I! One of my personal favorites is "Tuchanka Down". It's about an Alliance crew that crash lands on the krogan home planet, stumbling upon other crews of other races. The central theme is unity between species, highlighting the importance of interracial co-operation and harmony during times of need. I guess it's pretty relevant right now, what with the reapers and everything."

I remind her of the reaper threat, encouraging her to feel desperate for some sort of enjoyable experience, a momentary escape from her seemingly monotonous daily life before everything around her is possibly destroyed.

"Nice! I'll have to watch it sometime. Have you seen "The Journey of -"

I stop paying attention to her, giving my best automated replies, instead paying attention to the volus sitting by the table across mine. His suit looks a lot more expensive than mine. Goddamnit. That fucker. Who does he think he is. That volus fuck. Embarrassing me in front of all these people. FUCK.

"What's wrong Henry? You seem a little shaky."

"Huh? Oh it's nothing. More importantly that movie sounds really interesting. I think I might have the vid at my apartment actually, just haven't really had the chance to watch it."

"Seriously?! You have the vid and haven't seen it? You have to watch it sometime, seriously."

"I might watch it tonight actually, but it might be a little hard to understand for me. Some of the quarian subtleties might go way over my head..."

I giver her my most intensely playful look.

"What are you suggesting?" she replies, taking the bait.

"Nothing, nothing. Just sayin' it'd be nice if I had someone who was accustomed to quarian culture to explain some of the deeper parts of the movie."

"Oh really?"

We finish the meal and I ask for the bill. 750 credits. Not bad. I pay through my omni-tool. It scans my DNA and asks me to type my password.

"Finally, please clearly say your voice password." Voice recognition software. One of the best and the hardest to crack. Wasn't cheap.

"Humanity."

"Password accepted. Thank you, sir. Have a nice day, Mr. Henry Smith."


End file.
